Baptism By Fire
by Serujuunin
Summary: John Morrison is one of millions of Americans suffering from lycanthropy, and has been kidnapped by a wealthy scientist for experimental use. Only now, he learns what is really happening in his body, and how best to control it. JohnOC


**A/N: Last piece I post today, I promise. And no, it's not more Assassin's Creed stuff. This was actually born of a story idea I had, my fascination with werewolves and my undying passion for biology. This was actually going to end up being a portion of a fanfiction I was writing that scientifically explained lycanthropy, but the actual idea for the story died, as they frequently do, but I was pretty pleased with this. :D**

**PS, if you don't understand the biology of this, just ask me! I like teaching people about bio. **

**PSS, "John" here is one John Morrison, of WWE fame. *Sigh* He is beautiful. I do not, sadly, own him (though I would so love to). Madison is mine though. Dr. McIntyre is kinda based on a real person but kinda my own imagination, so make of that what you will.**

**Thanks for reading!**

"It really is quite fascinating," Dr. McIntyre said, a smirk on his face. "With all the research we've done on subjects before John, we've gleaned a substantial about of information on the subject.

See, the cause of lycanthropy is not a virus, or a bacteria, or any known pathogen known to man. It's something completely different. In eight years of research we have yet to discover what it is. But we know how it works.

When an individual is 'infected' with lycanthropy, the infective agent initially acts like a virus. It takes over a host cell. Except, where a virus would inject its own viral DNA into the cell, this agent takes up the DNA existing in the cell, puncturing its nucleus and removing the DNA. This DNA is altered by the addition of several genes that do not exist in human beings, coding for proteins we've never seen before. This new DNA triggers an instant replication of the cell, and this division propagates this new, altered DNA. And it occurs all over the body, in every tissue. In the heart, lungs, muscles, nerves, even in the brain. This change occurs everywhere, and it is, unfortunately, quite painful." He punctuated his statement with a cruel smile.

"The victim experiences an excruciating amount of pain for a few days, as their normal, 'human' cells are rapidly replaced by lycanthropic cells, and once this replacement has finished, the pain ceases. The 'human' cells soon die, as all human cells do, leaving only the lycanthropic cells. These cells have accelerated rates of growth, development and replacement, which is what causes the supernatural healing rate among lycanthropic individuals. In addition, the telomeres of these lycanthropic cells do not shorten as the cell divides, allowing the cell to undergo mitosis at a rate that is multiple times that of a normal human cell. This results in the extended lifespan of a lycanthropic individual. However, the proper amount of concentrated silver damages these cells beyond the point of repair, and prevents existing cells around the area from replicating to replace them."

"Which is why werewolves are allergic to silver," Madison guessed. The doctor nodded with a smile.

"Exactly. But this is not all we have discovered.

This tremendous healing ability works to repair and rebuild existing muscular tissue, as well as generate new tissue. This effect, coupled with the fat burning effects of a heightened lycanthropic metabolism, results in a remarkably muscular form, with very little body fat. This physique takes little or no work on the part of the individual to maintain, possibly in an effort to be larger and more intimidating while in a human guise.

In addition, when a lycanthropic individual is exposed to the full moon, certain genes that were inserted into the genetic code, replacing some human genes, trigger a switch, or a modification, of some genes, turning them on or changing the intensity with which they are expressed. This is because they respond to the particular amount of radiation reflected from the sun when the moon is fully exposed.

These changes in the genes trigger a physical transformation, with which I'm sure you are familiar," he added with a laugh, ignoring Madison's glare.

"It also triggers a chemical change in the brain, hindering the activity of certain sections and hyper activating others. The parts of the brain controlling memory and higher thinking are suppressed, while the parts of the brain where instinctual thinking occur are over stimulated, causing a degeneration in cognitive faculties."

"Meaning I pretty much lose my mind," John said from within his reinforced glass prison, a scowl plainly on his face.

"Precisely. It really is quite a fascinating process," the doctor said with rapture. "I really would love to discover how it is possible that a weak and feeble human body can become such a sophisticated weapon. _That, _John, is where you come in. See, most of our previous subjects have either died or committed suicide before we were able to sequence their DNA and discover how the chromosomes of a lycanthropic individual differ from those of a human being, and my predecessors were not quite as thorough as me. Our blood samples from previous subjects are mysteriously lacking, so we needed a new subject."

"I don't think so," John spat violently. "No way am I going to be used for some sick experiment."

"You don't have a choice. That enclosure was specially designed to withstand your lycanthropic strength, and the only means by which it can be accessed is via a fingerprint scan. You're locked in, and only I can let you out."

"Then I suggest you do that, sooner rather than later," John growled. "I'm sure I can find a way out of your little tank, and when I do, I'm going to rip you limb from limb and feast on your insides, you demented freak." His eyes glimmered a supernatural amber, his fangs gnashed in frustration, and his claws carved thin white lines into the thick glass.

Dr. McIntyre was not intimidated, or if he was, he showed no signs. Rather, he scoffed, almost tauntingly, and shook his head. "There _is _no way out. Bigger, stronger and smarter subjects than you have lived and died in enclosures like yours. I have little faith in your ability to find a way out."

He finally turned to look at John, taking his eyes of his computer screen for the first time since he entered the room and began his explanation. John saw something in those eyes that nearly made him nauseous.

The man was deranged. Well and truly psychotic, with absolutely no intention to bend to his will. He would certainly die in here.

That is, if he didn't think of a way out.

The doctor turned his gaze back to his computer screen, continuing his frantic typing. "Now, if you don't mind, young lady, we have research to conduct."

"If you think I'm leaving without a fight, you're sorely mistaken," she said brazenly. "There's no way I'm leaving you to do God only knows what to John. If anything is going to happen here, _I _am going to oversee it, seeing as you pigs don't seem to follow any sort of ethics code."

"Ethics code? My dear, ethics apply to humans, not monsters," Dr. McIntyre replied. "Why does it matter to the rest of the world what kind of research is done on monsters and freaks? No one cares about them, no one, perhaps, but you." He turned his gaze away from his computer screen, towards Madison, with an expression of combined annoyance and curiosity. "What makes you so determined to treat him as a human being when you know perfectly well that he's not? Why do you defend him?"

"Because I believe that it's not what's in your genes that makes you a human being," she spat back at him. "I believe that it's your actions, your thoughts and your beliefs that make you who you are. John is just as human as you and I, and he deserves the same rights that we do!"

"Madison, he's right," John interrupted, his gaze downturned. "I'm not a human being. I'm not like you. And I'm alright with that."

She stopped and looked at him, her expression confused. "But you don't deserve to be treated like a science experiment."

"Alright, that's enough." McIntyre rose from his chair, drawing himself to a surprisingly intimidating height. "I've had enough of this after-school special dribble. Either you leave, or I will have security escort you out."

Madison took a long, deep breath, looking at McIntyre, then at John, and back to the doctor. "I'm not going anywhere. Go ahead and try calling security, I don't care. I'm not going anywhere."

"Madison-"

"_No, _John. This isn't right. You don't deserve to be treated this way, animal or not," she said determinately. If he won't make sure you're treated right, I will."

McIntyre rolled his eyes. "If you insist. But be aware, I will not be paying you any more attention until my work is finished. My employers have a strict deadline and I must deliver on schedule."

"Fine by me," she spat, turning away from him and focusing now on John, who had turned away from both her and the doctor, staring out the tinted windows towards the skyline. She glanced over her shoulder to be certain that McIntyre had returned to his work before speaking, so quietly that she was sure the doctor couldn't hear.

"I'm sorry…" she whispered. "This is my fault."

"Madison, we've been over this," he said quietly, still not looking her in the face. "This is not your fault… It's mine. It's my fault you got hurt and had to go to the hospital, and it's my fault that this creep found me there."

"But how are we going to get you out of here?"

"I… I don't know," he said, feeling the massive weight of uncertainly come crashing down upon him. Just as his life had begun to take a positive turn, something happens. Something _always _happens.

Madison took a long, deep breath. "Give me some time, I'll come up with something. My brother's best friend from high school was in the special operations division of the military… Maybe I can talk him into helping us. He'll know how to get in and out without being seen, and how high tech places like this operate."

John nodded, not really processing Madison's words. He was busy thinking of a plan of his own. Sure the doctor had said that the enclosure was designed to withstand his lycanthropic strength, but there was nothing said about his cunning.


End file.
